


Picking Apart The Darkness

by LokiNeedsHugs1031



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Boy Kissing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Returns, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Crying, Crying Bucky Barnes, Crying Steve Rogers, Crying men, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, POV Steve Rogers, Panic Attacks, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Stucky - Freeform, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:46:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiNeedsHugs1031/pseuds/LokiNeedsHugs1031
Summary: Post-Captain America Civil War: Bucky is adjusting to life outside the cryo-tube with Steve. His memories are surfacing and he struggles. Thankfully he has Steve, his best friend and much more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dean_The_princess_Winchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_The_princess_Winchester/gifts).



> So folks, this will probs be a multi chapter fic if people want it that way (as soon as I'm out of this semester) but this is my first Stucky fic. I hope I do the fandom proud <3 thank you Dean_The_princess_Winchester for inspiring me :) So sorry for the messiness! *edited* this is what happens when I post late at night, if you follow the story you'll see I do that frequently LOL

            It had been so much when Bucky came back, so much. Steve wasn’t even sure how to handle it all. Knowing that there was a book that could control every thought in his mind. It had taken every fiber of his being to allow Bucky to be re-frozen. But T'Challa had promised he’d find a way to turn it off. He did. Even as much as it pained Steve, to watch Bucky’s eyes glaze over into forced sleep. He did it.

            He’d successfully done so, and as he’d explained the technicalities of it, Steve didn’t hear any of it.

            All he could hear was that he had Bucky back. Bucky. _His_ Bucky. He knew, however, that Bucky’s memories were still skewered. Sliced in half, where touch both startled and comforted him. And he didn’t seem to be aware that they had been intimate with one another before the years of the serum, and war, and blood. As of now he only believed them to be school-yard friends. It hurt. He wouldn’t lie about that.

            He tried to cling to the memories of he and Bucky together, before all this mess. Memories that were his apartment. Memories of lazy mornings of reading the paper and letting the radio play idly. The smell of coffee. Bucky at the stove making his scrambled eggs and Steve smiling barely behind a pillow, body bare and spent beneath stark, white sheets. Making love late into the night, early into the morning. It was everything. It was their whole world.

            Before Bucky’s fall.

            He tried. Oh, he tried to move past it. But he couldn’t.

            And then the weeks passed that Bucky was cleared. Stark approved of said clearance and then Steve knew he could have Bucky home. Home. Wherever that was. If he was with Steve, he was home. That was all that mattered. No matter what he remembered.

            When Steve had gotten Bucky alone, finally, cleared that he’d done nothing willfully wrong. He wanted to weep and plead. But he could only do so much. Only so much.

            Bucky stumbled behind him into his room in Avenger’s Tower, eyes heavy and dark with exhaustion, “Buck, you should sleep.” Steve offered, noting that it was nearing midnight, “Have you slept much?”

            “I-I don’t…I don’t even know how to anymore…they never let me.” Bucky murmured, “It’s like everything else, ya know? Muddled…”

            “It’s okay,” Steve answered, moving forward and taking Bucky by the bend of the arm, “You’ll stay with me…alright? Room’s got two beds, it’s fine.”

            “Why?” Bucky began and seemed to startle with the sudden presence of touch.

            “Just because we know each other Buck, remember?” Steve said, and his heart hurt to vocalize that statement.

            “Stevie?” Buck began, and at first he wasn’t sure why he said it like that, his memories were firing in every direction but it was like grasping at a hummingbird. He couldn’t quite catch a single one and hold it still, “Steve…”

            “It’s okay, come on,” Steve urged him toward a bedroom, “We’re okay, why don’t you get rid of the armor, let’s get to bed. You’re cold, I can tell.”

            Bucky did as told, stripping away his armor with some apprehension, eyes around the room in suspicion, “Steve, are you sure…it’s safe here?”

            “Of course it’s safe, I wouldn’t say it was if it wasn’t,” Steve assured, pulling a t-shirt over his head and tossing it towards the hamper, “This place is incredibly safe.”

            With obvious reluctance, heart beating fast Bucky pulled on sleep pants and a loose t-shirt that wasn’t irritating against the stump that was once his metal arm. He hadn’t realized that he was standing so stiffly until Steve was standing in front of him.

            “Hey, Buck, it’s okay,” Steve offered softly, one hand on his hip the other on the flesh of his remaining arm, “Let’s get you to bed, come on,” he used a mild amount of force to maneuver him to the bed, “It’s okay,” he repeated, “Under the sheets, you’ll feel better once you’re warm, kind of chilly tonight.” and he complied once more.

            “Steve…” Bucky pushed the word up from the tightness of his throat.

            “Yeah?” Steve was startled by the sudden vulnerability in his voice.

            “N-Nothing, I’m fine, goodnight,” he turned over in the bed, sheets rustling loudly as he righted himself against the mattress. He fought for a comfortable position that accommodated his missing appendage, his eyes watering without control.

            Steve frowned, but it didn’t stop him from patting Bucky on the shoulder. He hurried to his own bed and turned down the lights. He found himself merely dozing as he stared up at the white washed ceiling, mind racing enough to have his heart doing the same.

            It wasn’t more than an hour before he heard the muffled whimpers coming from the neighboring bed. He lifted himself up on one elbow to observe the other bed, he thought he’d see Bucky thrashing but he wasn’t. He was frozen. And then screaming. Steve leapt from the bed.

            As carefully as he did anything he sat down on the edge, “Bucky, hey,” he placed a hand on Bucky’s forearm, flesh and all, and Bucky leapt backwards. Nearly off the bed, “Buck! It’s Steve! It’s me!”

            “No! Not again, no more! Please! N-No more, please, don’t make me!” Bucky was abruptly sobbing, scurrying backwards still across the cool sheets and then the floor with a loud thump. As he did so he curled in on himself, difficult as it was with only one arm.

            Steve rounded the bed, naked knees hitting the floor, hands hovering over the trembling form of his friend, “Bucky, it’s okay, hey, hey,” he took a chance and brushed his fingertips against Bucky’s, careful at first, before he took his hand. When he was seemingly allowed to do so he laced their fingers and rubbed a careful thumb over the pulse of his wrist.

            “So much blood,” Bucky sobbed, eyes pinched shut to the point of painful, “It hurts…it hurts-hurts, make it stop. Please…make…m-make it stop.”

            “Buck,” Steve murmured softly, “There’s no blood, you’re in the Stark tower with me, with Steve. Steve Rogers, you remember me?”

            “Stevie?” Bucky gulped.

            Steve’s heart leapt, “Yeah, it’s Stevie, I’ll keep you safe, just like you always did me. Always fightin’ my battles right?”

            “Yeah,” Bucky sobbed, eyes still not open, “You were so small.”

            “I was, but not anymore, so I can keep the bad guys away, got that?” Steve moved a fraction closer and pressed a palm to his cheek, “I’ll take care of you this time.”

            “Yeah,” Bucky hiccupped, leaning into the touch without thought and then his eyes were open and locked on Steve’s.

            “Bucky…” Steve started, “You with me?”  
            “I-I remember something,” he huffed, breath stifled in his chest, “Y-You and me…”

            “You and me…” Steve nodded on, his palm still firmly resting on the former assassin’s cheek.

            “We’re in an apartment…busted kitchen table…and a radio in the corner…bedroom…” Bucky gulped, “A-And we…we don’t…”

            “It’s okay,” Steve inhaled steadily, one thumb stroking along his cheek bone.

            “We’re not wearing any clothes a-and you…you’re against me…and I’m holding you…” Bucky almost whimpered.

            “Yeah,” Steve was nodding, “That’s right, we did that a lot. It’s okay Bucky…nothing wrong with it. Nothing wrong…”

            “I don’t understand,” and then Bucky was sobbing again, and falling into the touch even as little as it was.

            “We,” Steve took a breath, “We were together, that’s what you’re remembering Bucky.”

            “Yes, we were,” Bucky was nuzzling into Steve’s palm, and then his eyes were locked with the Captain once more, “We were…were we always?”

            Steve wetted his lips, “Yes, we were, always, we were inseparable since we were kids,” he leaned forward and kissed Bucky’s forehead, “I think I was about 19 when we finally admitted it to each other. That it was more than friendship we were feeling.”

            “That long?” Bucky’s eyes watered all over again, “Why did it take me…this long…oh God…Steve…”

            Steve knew he was being bold, but he saddled up alongside the man and pulled him against his chest, “All that matters is that you’re safe. You’re here with me and you’re safe. You and me.”

            “I’m so sorry,” Bucky sobbed, clawing with his only arm to find comfort along the muscled back of his friend, fingers digging into the firm flesh, “A-And I tried to kill you…I didn’t know you…fuck…God…” and then his breathing was out of control. His chest heaving, his breath wheezing.

            “Bucky, no, stop,” Steve held him close, threading his fingers through his hair, “You couldn’t help any of this, none of it.”

            “It’s too much…remembering too much…no, no, no,” he croaked, curling closer, “I loved you, I love you and I hurt you. I-I almost…no, no, no. A-And then they used…the memory of you…to hurt me more…I didn’t wanna go under again! I-I could remember you and then I’d say your name and they’d take you from me! No!”

            Steve was nearly blind by tears now, “Buck,” he paused, and then dipped downwards and captured his lips and Bucky squeaked but didn’t back away. Steve kept it chaste at best, never breaching his mouth, “Look at me, hey, look at me.” and Bucky did, “I don’t care about anything that happened after you fell. That wasn’t you. All that matters, is that you’re here. And I’m here and I’m not lettin’ you go, you get that? Never again.”

            “Stevie…” Bucky gulped down a powerful sob, “Steve…baby.”

            And then Steve only simply gathered him as closely as possible, making an effort to pull up the fallen blanket around his naked waist. He tangled his fingers in Bucky’s dark, long hair, scratching his scalp in hopes of it being soothing. He peppered kissed along his brow, and since Bucky wasn’t objecting he didn’t stop, “Bucky, honey, it’s okay. You’re okay, we’re okay, you with me?”

            “Yeah,” Bucky hiccupped, “I’m here…I think…don’t leave. Please don’t leave again, don’t leave me again. I-I’m so cold, please don’t leave…”

            “Never, nothin’ and nobody could make that happen, breathe with me sweetheart, breathe,” Steve urged for calm, he made sure that Bucky’s bandage was comfortably resting to the bed, his one arm was wrapped tightly around Steve’s waist. Bucky buried his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, an action he was not familiar with, it was usually the other way around, “You’re safe here Buck, with me, not goin’ anywhere.”

            “Steve, my baby doll,” Bucky slurred with exhaustion and spent adrenaline, hand lazily moving up into Steve’s hairline and grasping the short strands, “My baby doll.”

            “That’s right, your babydoll,” Steve exhaled, closing his eyes and kissing Bucky’s brow once more, lingering there, kissing once then twice, “Close your eyes sweetheart.”

            “Mhmm,” Bucky murmured, slowly but surely succumbing to sleep.

            “You and me always,” Steve whispered, closing both strong arms around Bucky’s frame, not being able to ignore the missing limb. His eyes were watering as he pressed kisses into his hair, silently vowing promised of making everything right.

 


	2. Bad Dreams and Coping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve deals with Bucky's obvious PTSD and nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey beautiful Stucky peeps. So I've had enough people say they like this that I'm adding chapters and I actually have a bit of a story arch! I'm changing the ratings (I had some dark angsty thoughts and this happened) so please be advised and read so I don't trigger anyone! I'm so happy to get such a good response for my first Stucky fic. Thank you for the reviews, bookmarks and kudos!

Steve woke up to the sensation of the warm body against him. Solid. Firm. Safe. He wound his free arm around the lightly clothed chest. Fingers idly stroking without thought, up and down, up and down and he could sense the goosebumps riddling the flesh beneath his fingertips.

            It was the hum vibrating from Bucky’s chest that had Steve opening his eyes. Just the slightest slivers of light from the 30 story window seeped its way beneath Steve’s eyelids. He worked his eyes open, instinctively tightening his arms around the body in his arms. Once he was able to focus he took immediate note that it was Bucky in his arms. Sleeping. Lax. Limp.

             Bucky asleep, so peaceful.

            It was in this moment that Steve took a deep breath of contentment. His eyes closing once more, if only for a moment he felt at peace. The man he loved in his arms, no wars, no violence. To his dismay, as quiet buzz of the circular fan filled the room, this changed.

            Bucky groaned, one hand clenching the flesh of Steve’s arm painfully and spatting “I don’t--”

            “Buck,” Steve found his voice as he came out of sleep, one elbow propping him up now, “Bucky, hey.”

            “No, no, no,” and then Bucky was pushing with such strength even Steve was taken off guard. Bucky was launching off the bed and Steve was nearly sent into the neighboring wall.

            “Bucky, honey, listen,” Steve tried, after he caught his breath and detangled himself from the sheets.

            But Bucky wasn’t hearing any of it as he scrambled backwards until he hit the wall with a loud thump. That garnered a yelp.

            Steve was much more awake, hands out in defense, eyes wide and watching Bucky’s every move, “Buck,” he kept touch out of the equation but tracked him as he cornered himself.

            “Don’t put it in me,” Bucky sobbed, outright sobbed, there was no gradual increase of lost control. No, it just burst.

            “I won’t do anything to hurt you sweetheart,” Steve promised, wanting to touch but knowing it wasn’t allowed. He was still on his haunches, hands out, waiting for his moment.

            “Stevie, where, where are you…where is he?!” Bucky cried, he’d successfully backed himself into a corner, buried his face in his bent knees, his one arm covering or protecting his head.

            Steve swallowed roughly, “Right here Buck, I’m here, Steve is right here,” he brushed fingers against the flesh of Bucky’s calf and wasn’t denied so he moved upwards oh so carefully. Hip. Stomach. Ribs. Neck. Cheek, “Buck, it’s me, you’re okay.”

            “Stevie…” Bucky moaned.

            “Yeah, it’s me,” Steve answered.

            “I’m cold,” Bucky said, eyes blinking, “I’m always so cold…where m’clothes.”

            And it was in that moment that Steve could feel how horribly Bucky was trembling, and he voiced the only idea he had, “Why don’t we get you into the tub, huh? Warm you up,” Steve said, one hand gripping his forearm the other resting on his hip. He took a chance and kissed his cheek, “Come on baby, let’s get in the tub. How’s that sound?”

            Wordlessly Bucky nodded.

            Steve urged Bucky into the bathroom and he didn’t seem notice that he was undressing him and setting him into the large tub. He didn’t feel the least bit guilty though that Bucky sighed in contentment when Steve pulled the t-shirt away, slipped away the sleep pants past his hips. Given their history this garnered no embarrassment, but given their time apart Steve wasn’t surprised to see the blushing of Bucky’s cheeks. To the point where he had to say something.

            “Buck,” he said, threading fingers through Bucky’s dark locks, “It’s okay.”

            As if given permission Bucky just sank into the water, eyes falling away and closing, cheek resting against the porcelain, hand idly covering his crotch.

            It was only when Steve pressed lips to Bucky’s forehead did his eyes open, “You don’t need to be ashamed. Okay? It’s me…you don’t need to hide.”

            “I don’t,” Bucky heaved a breath, “I don’t like being naked…I-I mean…”

            “What…” Steve started, “What Buck?”

            “Nothing,” Bucky swallowed roughly once more, “It’s nothing…”

            “Just rest here,” Steve bit at his bottom lip, taking quick note that Bucky was terrified of being seen as anything but vulnerable. Naked. Exposed. Steve helped him out of the tub after at least a half an hour of no talking, the only sound in the room being the sound of the faucet as he re-heated the water. Steve was everything that was attentive both because he wanted to and needed to. One arm left a lot of problems. But Bucky allowed him to lead him back to bed. The man curled up under the sheets without a word passing his lips, with little pain from his removed arm and fell into another fitful sleep.

 

            Steve delved deeper into sleep for the first time in weeks but was plucked quickly out of said sleep with a scream. Bucky wasn’t stiff like the first time, no, he was scrambling out of his bed, eyes wide and eyes dilated. Just like earlier tonight.

            “Damnitt,” Steve spat, throwing away the blankets around his waist, “Bucky, Buck, hey, hey, it’s me!” Steve tried, he did, but as soon as he tried anything Bucky crawled quicker than he thought possible to the opposite wall.

            “I won’t hurt you honey, look at me.”

            “No! No! You will, you will, please,” Bucky sobbed. It arrived so much quicker than before. As if the surrender would spare him more pain, “I’ll do anything you want…just not that…Steve! Where’s Steve?! Steve?! Please…no…they promised!”

            “Buck, baby, it’s me, it’s me,” Steve pleaded, hands out but not touching, “Whoever is hurting you it’s not me. I’m here and I can help you.’

            “No, no, no, “Bucky continued to cry, skittering backwards along the wall, “I can’t…. it hurts…d-don’t…don’t please!”

            Steve couldn’t take it, he plunged forward, gathering Bucky in his arms. And he fought, oh yes he fought, pushing and shoving at him with one hand, and kicking, but Steve fought too. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay, I got you, I won’t hurt you! Never! I’ll never hurt you!”

            “Stuck things in me, he has a cane and I’m not allowed to move! Steve, make them stop, please, make them stop, make them stop! I don’t wanna…they keep saying…I-If I do it…you’ll come get me…take me away from here.” and then he slumped knocking Steve backwards somewhat, but he gained his bearings and held the other man up.

            “God almighty,” Steve murmured under his breath, but pressed kisses to Bucky’s temple, “Oh sweetheart, I’m here. I’m stopping them, you see it? I’m getting you out of there. You’re safe with me. We’re warm and safe.”

            “Warm and safe?” Bucky sobs, “Stevie…Steve…”

            “Yeah, I’m here, breathe.”

            Bucky’s chest hitches, “I’m gonna be sick.”

            Hurriedly Steve ushered him back into the bathroom, hardly giving them time to lift the toilet seat before he was hurling his guts into the porcelain bowl. Steve held his hair back with one hand and with the other pressed his palm to his forehead. He wasn’t sure at all of what Bucky had endured, his panic and stuttered responses made it hard to decipher what had happened to him, besides the experiments. But he had a horrifying thought that Hydra had used him for more than just killing.

            “Just get it out,” Steve spoke low, swiping a thumb back and forth against the thing flesh of his forehead. One more vicious heave and he slumped forward, “All done?”

            Panting and spitting, he nodded.

            Steve closed the toilet, flushing the mess away, “Here, lean against the wall.” he moved up from the floor once Bucky was sitting so he could search for a cloth to wet, once he did he

started dabbing it along his brow and cheeks, passing over his lips. Bucky hadn’t opened his eyes yet and seemed to be focused on his breathing, or not getting sick again he wasn’t sure.

            “Bucky, you with me?”

            Bucky swallowed roughly again, “Y-Yeah…I think so.”

            Steve, not knowing what else to do, ran the cloth more than once over his forehead and cheeks again.

            “Have you ever…” Bucky gulped and then stopped, grey eyes finally open, “Never mind…”

            “What? What would I ever?” Steve asked tentatively.

            “It’s a stupid question because Captain America would never think about it…” Bucky trembled a fake laugh not far behind.

            “Buck,” Steve started, taking the other man’s chin in his hand, “It isn’t stupid, whatever it is.”

            “It is,” Bucky’s face crumpled, “Because you’d always fight. Always.”

            “I haven’t been what you’ve been through,” Steve countered softly, sitting down next to his side.

            “I wanted to die, so many times…each time I was brought back…each time my mind was wiped and each time I remembered everything.” he turned his head so their eyes met, “I even tried a few times. But they always caught me and then they were re-booting me…and I would pray…or at least I thought it was kinda like praying…that next time I’d remember. But I never did.”

            Steve felt his heart clench, his eyes were burning and his stomach turned. He brought one arm up and around Bucky’s shoulders and pulled him close, every move slow and calculating, “You felt like you didn’t have a choice, that doesn’t make you weak.” Steve was beginning to wonder if Bucky remembered what he was spatting before he was sick. Because this wasn’t it. Someone had been hurting him and it seemed to be for amusement, not a fight, “Buck…”

            “I love you,” he interrupted, “Sometimes they’d say you were dead…I don’t know why they’d say it. Maybe they thought it would sway me, cut through the red tape and not have to re-set me. I don’t know. But I know this. Every time I remembered you. I knew for sure, without a doubt, how much I loved you. And that isn’t any different now.”

            Steve knew his eyes were leaking fiercely now, “I love you too, and I’m so sorry that they used that against you.” he didn’t add ‘whatever that was’. It was the right response because Bucky curled against his chest, burying his nose in the crook of his neck.

            “Ever since my treatment, my recent cryo, whatever you wanna call it…I’ve just been…hit with all these memories. I don’t know what to do with them. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

            “We’ll deal together alright? I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” Steve kissed his temple and then his cheek, gathering him closer, “Never again.”

 

            Without another word, Steve ushered Bucky back into bed, it was nearing noon at this point but he didn’t care. Unlike before, when they had entered the bedroom like two shy teenagers, Bucky clung to him tightly. Steve worked the blanket around both of them as Bucky latched himself to Steve’s side, eyes pinched shut and one hand bunching up the cloth of Steve’s shirt. Steve asked Friday to lower the lights and tighten the shades as he cradled the man in his arms. Like an octopus, Bucky wrapped himself around Steve, in a desperate way.

            “Steve…”

            “Yeah?” Steve answered, threading his fingers through Bucky’s dark hair.

            “Can you take your shirt off, please, I-I need…”

            For only a moment Steve stumbled and then, as Bucky moved away just enough for him to do so, he slipped the t-shirt from his frame. The action was immediately met with Bucky pressing his cheek to Steve’s chest, ear over his heart, lips huffing uneven breaths against the heated flesh, “Sorry…I…”

            “It’s okay,” Steve interrupted, “I get it, close your eyes sweetheart.” he tugged the blanket up higher around Bucky’s torso.

            Bucky sighed, slow and contented and then his breathing was everything that was peaceful sleep.

            For now. That was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	3. Reasoning and Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's reasoning of helping Steve and Bucky are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've added another ship to this fic. I feel it's necessary I'm not gonna give it away. But I hope you like! Thank you for all the support, reviews, bookmarks and kudos! Hope you guys like this new chapter! Will edit on the morrow!

“Jesus Christ, I’ve seen some meltdowns, but that…that was straight up crazy.” Tony Stark said, eyes on the monitor that showed a former Winter Soldier scrambling to get away from Steve Rogers. The howling of his screaming both animalistic and heartbreaking, he even had to turn down the volume. They’d both been sleeping, the Captain and the Soldier, and then the one-armed man was screaming and tumbling out of bed. Tony couldn’t decipher everything that was being said, but he knew well enough to pick out words that indicated he’d endured some kind of torture. When he felt assured that he wasn’t flying into another fit of rage, that he was indeed simply having a night terror and not a relapse into his former homicidal tendencies, he clicked the camera.

            “Is this a new kink that I’ve stumbled upon?” the silky voice arrived close to his ear.

             “How many times have I told you not to do that?!” Tony barked, knocking several tools over on his work bench in a loud wave of clattering.

            “I prefer to keep you on your toes.”

            “Well, you do, and you don’t have to keep proving that you can. It’s not fair that you can transport like that.”

            “As if you would not do the same thing if you had the ability?”

            Tony finally turned around, to face the voice, “Pretty sure you’d turn me into a toad.”

            “I would do no such thing, besides amusement, that would suit you ill. And I’m quite fond of your current form.”

            “Where’ve you been for three days?” when he was greeted with silence, he huffed in small irritancy, “Come on Loki, it would be nice to know. You show up out of nowhere after months. You’ve been here for weeks now, of which you’ve yet to really explain why, and then you go out on these secret missions.”

            One dark eyebrow rose over impossibly green eyes, “It is nothing that concerns you, you know how careful I must be on Midgard given that my brother is now earthbound. I’m merely making sure that I am still, indeed ‘under the radar’ as you like to say. Besides, you look rather busy with your voyeurism.”

            “I’m not watching anything that violates privacy. I’m just making sure looney tunes there doesn’t go all ‘Winter Soldier’ on me. I have Friday monitoring his heart rate and what I just saw a few minutes ago was warrant to check in.”

            Loki made a sound somewhere between a huff and a scoff, running a too pink tongue over his lips, “Might I ask why you are helping a man that sent you backwards in your own mental recovery? When I first returned you were near inconsolable.”

            Tony frowned but didn’t disagree, kept silent. Loki had reappeared in the fits of a panic attack. Shortly after he’d arrived from the initial battle between Rogers and Barnes.

            Loki continued, “That alone would give me reason to destroy him. But he is also responsible for your parent’s deaths. Not only are you helping him, you are allowing him to stay in your tower? And,” he gestured with one pale, delicate hand towards the technology scattered in carefully placed pieces, “You are constructing him a new appendage.”

            Tony crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against the table behind him, shuffling nervously and shrugged, “Well, there’s a very good reason.”

            “Do enlighten me,” Loki said, hopping up on the edge of the table across from Tony and mirroring his actions.

            “Well,” he began again, “You.”

            “Me?!” Loki squawked, “Why in Hels name would you say ‘me’?”

            “If you recall, you were in somewhat of a similar situation, kiddo,” Tony pushed himself away from the countertop with both palms, crossing the space between them. And yes, because the god was taller than him and sitting on a higher level to boot, he had to look up into his face to make eye contact.

            Loki frowned, “Must you bring that up?”

            “To make my point, yes, I will.” he pressed a button beneath the surface and the table lowered so now they were at eye level which garnered him a low growl from Loki’s throat. “I’m helping him cause, well, he reminds me a little of you. He’s been under someone else’s control for 75 years. _75 years_ Lokes. And after what I witnessed this afternoon it wasn’t just these assholes reading out of a book to make him do what they wanted. Sounds like a helluva lot of abuse that I can hardly speak out loud. He needs help, like you needed help. You weren’t given one fucking chance to tell your side of the story.”

            Loki chewed at the inside of his jaw, eyes falling away, “I still struggled with why exactly you believed me. I disappear back to Asgard with my asinine brother and then two years later show up at your tower? And you hardly questioned me on the matter, you never exactly explained why and I was not so inclined to ask. I was merely happy that someone welcomed me somewhere…anywhere.”

            “Shield has camera equipment everywhere, when you first came out of that portal.” at this point Tony had taken one of his hands, a rough thumb rubbing circles over the soft pulse point. That was one thing that Tony marveled at every time he touched Loki, how over all this muscled and lean body was soft, warm, velvet-like-skin. Miles and miles of it too. Loki had a dancer’s body, like something out of a ballet number, but that was the trick. He was fierce beneath all this beauty. It was something Tony found both terrifying and exotic, he took a breath and continued, “The cameras were rolling of course and you looked sick Loki. Really sick. I started doing some research on your genetic background,” Loki huffed loudly and tried to yank his hand away but Tony held on tight, even taking the other one as well.

            “I know about your blueberry form and all that and I don’t care. But I know why you looked so sickly that day when you first came here. You could hardly walk, you stumbled, you looked starved, dehydrated…and then there was the dead give-away. Your eyes.”

            They’d spoken of Loki’s experience, that it was indeed outside of his control. But they’d never discussed any kind of ‘torture’ simply because Loki refused to speak of it, but Tony knew. A survivor himself he knew the signs. Just like he could see it clear as day with Barnes.

            “My eyes…” Loki murmured.

            “Yup, cause they’re awfully green looking to me. Something made you attack Earth, and let’s face it. You did a damn good job at getting us all together. I think you were trying to fail so you could get away from whoever was hurting you. Would I be wrong?”

            That same firm frown was dressing Loki’s face, his jaw locked and eyes wetting against his will, “You would not be…”

            “So, you see why I’m doing this? I’d kinda be a hypocritical dick if I didn’t. Because if anyone tried to hurt you after what I know?” Tony reached up and pressed a steady palm to Loki’s face, one thumb swiping beneath one eye, “I’d kick their fucking asses.”

 

           

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

            Steve was able to slip from the bed with more ease than he thought possible. It seemed that Bucky had finally hit the state of REM sleep he so desperately needed, his mouth slightly slack and noisy deep breaths left said lips.

            Bucky hadn’t woken since his second panic attack, a situation Steve never thought he’d find himself in. A state he’d never seen Bucky in, pale, panting, _desperate_.

            Holding his breath, Steve draped the blanket up around Bucky’s shoulders and quietly left the room. He was starving and he knew Bucky should eat too. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time either one of them had eaten. He was mildly surprised to find a stocked fridge, eggs, milk, various breakfast items, frozen hash browns and sausage patties. He voted for eggs. Easy, good protein.

            He approached the stove, this time actually shocked. It was a gas stove, as if it were installed just for him. Given that was the only appliance he was fully capable of using in the kitchen. An appliance he had back at his apartment. He sparked up the match and held it beneath the coils until the blue and yellow flame was forming a bright, flickering circle.

            He cracked three or four eggs into the maroon colored bowl, and then thought to add a couple more. He had an omlet in mind and so then he was adding a splash of cream and whipping the ingredients together with the whisk, as a memory drifting across his senses. Back when things were simple.

            Lazy mornings in front of the stove. Bucky dozing in the living room while he prepared breakfast. Radio playing softly in the foreground, hardly heard really. Sunday afternoons were always their time together, more than any other time. Neither were promised to be anywhere. No obligations. So it was crossword puzzles, and bad radio shows, and more often than not they never left the bed. Hardly wore clothes.

            Steve was startled out of his reverie by the soft creak of the bedroom door breaking the silence.

            “What time is it?” Bucky asked scrubbing at his face as he shuffled to one of the many barstools lining the counter top.

            “About 3 in the afternoon,” Steve answered temperately.

            “Jesus, Stevie, you let me sleep all day?”

            “You needed it,” Steve countered, he couldn’t help but smile, it always took Bucky some time to wake up. He was at sometimes, very much like a grumpy 3-year-old. Now was no different. “And you need more than the little you got. You hungry?”

            “Yeah, a little,” Bucky snuffled a little more, resting his chin in his hand as he balanced his elbow on the marble countertop, “Omelet?”

            “I know you like’em, that okay?”

            “Sounds good actually,” he answered, eyes closing briefly, “Remember that time you tried to do the pancake flip trick?”

            Searching his memory, Steve found it, and laughed without thought, “How many ended up hitting the ceiling huh?”

            “At least 3 before you gave up and thought it would be stupid to begin with, and you decided it wasn't worth the effort to waste batter if you kept trying,” Bucky smiled tiredly.

            “And I burned the rest,” Steve said, shaking his head, “And you ate’em anyway.”

            “You worked hard to make them into perfect circles, so what if they were a little black.”

            “You didn’t have to eat it,” Steve chuckled.

            Bucky shrugged, “It made you happy, that’s all that mattered.”

            As Steve filled up two plates, taking a seat as well, the two fell silent. Steve found himself frowning when Bucky stopped eating after only four or five bites.

            “It taste okay? Don’t lie to me now, it was funny before but now…”

            “It’s hard to eat,” Bucky interrupted, pushing the food around on his plate before abandoning the fork all together with a startling clank, “I haven’t had a decent meal…like this anyway in a long time. Not use to it…” as if to avert Steve’s downturned mouth, Bucky smiled, “It’s good though…tastes real good…no eggshells.”

            Steve reached over the marble surface and took Bucky’s hand in his own, “Next time I’ll make sure to add them in, ya know, just to remind you that I don’t cook like a kid anymore.” he tried to bypass the hurt shimmering across Bucky’s face, “You eat what you can.”

            The two of them talked idly while Steve washed the few dishes in the sink, “You feel like watching a movie or something?”

            “You have a decent TV in this place?” Bucky asked.

            “This is Stark tower, of course it does.” he answered, moving over to the couch.

            Steve was thankful that Tony didn’t go too high-tech on this room and he easily turned on the television with a simple on/off switch. There weren’t any real channels that Steve recognized, but then he came across an old black and white film. It turned out to be an old Western, not exactly having the most complex plot, but it was distraction.

            Bucky had pressed himself to Steve’s side, then soon after his cheek was resting to his shoulder. Bucky would never admit, past or present, but he was a cuddlier. Now was no different.

            Silence was something they were accustomed to. It’s an act that grows and stabilizes with a long-term relationship. When neither one needs to speak. And that was happening now as Steve snaked one arm around Bucky’s shoulders, that same hand of that arm carding through his hair.

            “Steve?”

            “Hmm?”

            “Why does Stark want to help me? I’ve been going over and over this in my head…why…after everything that has happened? The Avengers disassembling and scattering into the wind, thanks to me. And well…you know.”

            Steve swallowed carefully, “Tony’s not unreasonable…he sees when someone’s been wronged and well, that’s you. Everything that has made you…infamous…wasn’t your doing.”

            “Steve…no matter what you say…I’ve done terrible, awful things. Things I remember…things I don’t know if I can deal with. Knowing that I have the capability to hurt someone…like I have.” Bucky trembled, unsuccessfully able to hide the fact.

            “T’Challa and his team were able to eradicate that. You’ll never be under their control again Bucky. You fail to say it out loud that…horrible things were done to you too,” Steve held him closer, pressing lips to his temple, closer to the corner of his eye. Bucky’s shaky inhalation pushed him forward, “When you’re ready to talk about it. I’m here. I’ll always be here. You can spill your guts, or say nothing at all. Remember what we always said?”

            Bucky gulped loudly, his fingers curling and pulling at Steve’s t-shirt beneath his palm, “Till the end of the line…”

            Steve held him closer, angling his body to pull the other man closer to his chest, “Always…here with you till’ the end of the line.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews give Bucky forehead kisses <3


	4. Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky meets with Tony to get his arm worked on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long awaited update. Didn't think peeps were so in love with this! But my BEST friend wanted me to update so here we be. Hope you enjoy! Thank you for the reviews, kudos and bookmarks!

The next day Steve woke up to an empty bed. The two had settled in and for the first time since Bucky had come back there wasn’t a nightmare to speak of. Of course that didn’t mean much, if anything it put Steve more on edge. As Steve ran his hand over the cool sheets he realized that Bucky had been gone for some time. Where he had gone of to on his own his couldn’t even fathom.

            Pulling his wrinkled white t-shirt over his head he moved into the living room, “Buck, you in here?”

            No response.

            “Buck?”

            Just then the creak of the tower door of their apartment opened, and there Bucky was.

            “Where ya been?” Steve asked, short of breath, still trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes and then he saw why he’d been gone.

            Bucky had cut his hair. Short, like it had back in the army. Not like it had been probably for years, “Hey…” he trailed off.

            “Thought I’d give it a try. Didn’t think it would be smart to cut it myself so I asked Friday and she said Pepper knew someone. They came to the tower,” Bucky answered curtly, agitated like, running his one hand through his newly cropped hair, “It look okay?”

            “Course it does,” Steve smirked, he knew it had probably taken a lot for Bucky to have someone touch him. Even with something as simple as a haircut, “Reminds me of the old days,” he moved forward, as always careful with every movement, “You do know you coulda left it right? You’re you…you’re Bucky…” he shrugged, he made a move to rest a hand to Bucky’s cheek and Bucky leaned backwards, “No matter what you look like.”

            Bucky bit at his lips, “Yeah, but this makes me more comfortable. _Does_ remind me of the old days. Before everything…”

            Steve reached forward and took his hand, “You feel like eating something?”

            “I don’t know,” Bucky shook his head, “I’m meeting with Stark later. Arm. Remember?”

            “Yeah I remember. I just thought,” Steve huffed, nodding, he brought that one set of knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss, “You might wanna eat something.”

            “Don’t think I can,” Bucky sighed, looking sideways, eyes on the floor, “I still don’t know why he’s doing this.”

            “Buck, like I said, I know he’s hard to understand. But he does care about people or I wouldn’t be friends with him.” Steve offered.

            “Yeah,” Bucky exhaled, “I-I’m gonna take a shower.”

            “Okay,” Steve nodded, worry churning in his gut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            The short track down to Tony’s lab was nerve wracking to say the least. Carefully Steve reached sideways and took Bucky’s hand, giving the fingers he held a light squeeze, “It’ll be okay, he’s just doing measurements today. Nothing invasive.”

            Bucky nodded jerkily, “Yeah, sure. Thanks for tagging along.”

            “You think I’d let you do this on your own?” Steve narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, “You sure you’re up for this today?”

            “Don’t know if I’ll ever be truly okay. Especially after everything that’s gone down in the last few months. Just gettin’ it over with.”

            “Okay,” Steve sighed, when the elevator dinged he asked Friday to alert Tony that they had arrived.

            “Come on in guys!” they heard Tony shout.

            Steve, without thought, rested a hand to the small of Bucky’s back. He thought he might have overstepped but when the taught muscles of Bucky’s back relaxed he knew he’d done the right thing.

            “Wowsa, dig the new hair, that was brave.” Tony smirked, rolling his chair back to his work station, “This shouldn’t take too long, Friday’ll be doing the measurement scans, but I wanna see what we got going on with the uh, well, the uh remainder here.” he cleared his throat loudly.

            “Who’s this?” Steve jabbed a thumb towards one of the many lab tables.

            “Oh, yeah, I forgot, this is,” and it was unmistakable that he rolled his eyes, “Loren.”

            That earned him a spiteful grunt from the blonde man with green eyes currently sitting with his long legs crossed and note book in hand, “Stark,” he began with a growl.

            “Loren here,” he grinned with a wink, “Is here to assess my work, aren’t ya babe.”

            “Don’t you have Friday to do that?” Steve asked, hand moving up and down only slightly to soothe as Bucky’s nerves amped up with the extra person in the room.

            “I do. Friday does everything but _Loren_ insisted on sitting in and keeping an eye on me. He’s protective like that. Have a seat Barnes,” he gestured to a chair that could only be described as looking like a reclining dental chair.

            Steve was on alert as soon as Bucky sat down, his eyes were wide and locked on the recling chair. For a moment he lurched just in the slightest backwards, with the smallest of gasps, and his breathing was somewhat unsteady, “Buck, it’s okay. No one’s gonna hurt you here I promise. I promised you remember?” he spoke low only enough for the two men to hear.

            Bucky’s gulp was audible, “I know, I’m fine.”

            No you’re not, Steve wanted to say, but held his tongue.

            “You wanna get that undressed Steve?” Tony pointed to the bandage.

            Steve was thankful that Tony seemed to know how much he was allowed in Bucky’s space. It did help that he also was on purpose trying to keep the mood light, his sarcasm alive and well. Tony really did remind Steve of Howard in so many ways.

            “Let’s see what we got here.” he pulled down a small, oval overhead light and shined it on the remaining metal, “Wow Tchalla knows his tech, he did a helluva job here. Cleaned up nicely. This should be a breeze, can you put your arm out, straight out, we’ll let Friday do the scan.”

            But Bucky wasn’t moving, and he was trembling, head to toe. His chest hiccupping.

            “Bucky,” Steve spoke softly, he bent to one knee in hopes to garner eye contact, “Buck, hey.”

            Without missing a beat, Tony, whose face was laced with genuine concern scooted his chair away, “James,” Tony started slowly, “I’m not gonna touch ya pal. It’s just a scan, you won’t feel anything. You wanna do this another day?”

            Loren was up from his seated spot and moving forward, Tony turned around with a deadly stern look and was pointing one finger, “Lok-Loren it’s fine, give’em a sec.”

            Steve went to speak Bucky’s name again when he violently flinched, a single bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as if coming out of a daze, “F-Fine, I’m fine,” and then he was lifting his arm up as told, his grey eyes forward and distant, “J-Just hurry I’m not feeling so hot.”

            Tony nodded and then was giving Friday instructions, the only indication that a scan was being performed was the pale, blue light that cascaded over Bucky’s remaining arm. “Free to go guys. I’ll let you know when I got this all made up.”

            Bucky all but leapt up from the chair, stumbling slightly as he did so, “Sorry…sorry…”

            Tony halted him, both hands out, “Whoa, whoa, it’s cool, I’ll see you two later.”

            “Thanks Tony,” Steve supplied Bucky with the response he knew he was struggling with, “I better get him back upstairs.”

            Tony nodded, “Need anything, let Friday know.”

            “Of course,” Steve huffed, reached forward and squeezed Tony’s shoulder, “Thank you.”

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

             Once upstairs, Bucky foregoing all touch, bolted towards the bathroom, “I-I need a shower.”

            “Bucky wait,” but he was silenced by the slamming of the door.

            Steve stayed in the bedroom, nearest to the bathroom in hopes of getting Bucky to talk, or at least calm down. The shower ran loudly for over 20 mins. He pushed up from the bed and went to the door, softly rapping with his knuckles, “Buck…” nothing. “Bucky,” he reached for the doorknob, hesitating, but when he heard the muffled cry, he threw caution aside and entered the steam filled room. Pulling back the shower curtain, he found Bucky on the floor of the tub, fully clothed, arm over his head, clutching at the now short strands of his hair.

            “Can’t go back, can’t go back,” he was murmuring under his breath, while rocking back and forth, face pressed painfully to his jean clad knees.

            Steve reached over to turn the faucet off, he knew Bucky had turned it on scorching because the little bit of expose flesh around the collar of his shirt was red and screaming, “Bucky, hey, you’re not going anywhere. You’re here with me, it’s Stevie. Ya hear me?” he tentatively touched the tips of Bucky’s fingers and when he didn’t flinch he worked gently to stop him from pulling his hair out, “Right here honey, I’m right here.” Steve nearly gasped when Bucky grasped his hand and held on.

            “Don’t wanna be like this,” he sobbed, “Don’t wanna remember.”

            Knowing he was now allowed to touch, he scooted Bucky closer to the edge of the tub, “Talk to me Buck, talk to me please…”

            “You know how many times they reset me?” his cries echoed off the porcelain walls, “126 times. Sometimes it wasn’t even after a mission. They…they’d just do it because…I remembered something…or someone…or they.” he gulped and then sobbed, “Or they hurt me and if they didn’t reset me I’d be no good. They’d have these parties…people could do…whatever they wanted and I wasn’t allowed to stop them. Wasn’t allowed to say no. Those times…the worst times would be when I remembered you. Wanted to get back to you so bad. I-I would be a mess afterwards…not their fucking assassin…so they’d strap me to the chair…and burn it all out. I don’t like those chairs Steve…not ones that can restrain me…”

            His crying evolved into something like hyperventilation, so clothes and all Steve climbed into the tub and urged Bucky’s arm away from his hiding to cup his face, “I don’t care how many times I gotta say it. But no one is gonna do that to you ever again,” his throat began to burn with impending tears. Bucky had still been so vague. ‘Hurt’ but what kind of hurt? “I won’t let anyone ever hurt you like that again. Buck, look at me,” and grey eyes finally did lock with Steve’s blue, “I know you were working up to this in the lab. Next time? You tell me straight away. Tony gets it, not sure how, but he does. So, you feel this coming on, you say it and I’ll get you outta there.”

            Bucky’s chest lurched with a painful sob, but he was nodding, still clutching Steve’s hand, “I’m sorry Stevie…I’m not…me anymore. I try…I do…but…”

            “Stop,” Steve cut him off, “You’re you. That’s all. I know you think you’re so different now. And yeah you are, with everything that’s happened. But when I look in your eyes, you know what I see? James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. My Bucky. You’re hurtin’. You’re recovering, and sweetheart you didn’t need to go and cut off all your hair just to prove that to yourself. You have a lot you gotta work through but I’m not going anywhere, you got that? I’m here for good. I’ll always be here for you.”

            Steve heaved a sigh of relief when, minutely, Bucky nodded, wet strands of his hair spidered over his forehead, “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes. You want me to..”

            “Don’t leave!” Bucky spat, lurching one hand forward and clutching Steve’s forearm and then letting go, “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry I can’t…”

            “It’s okay,” Steve scooted closer, pushing the damp hair from his eyes, “Not going unless you say so. You want a proper shower or bed?”

            “Proper shower,” Bucky said, closing his eyes at the palm against his cheek.

            Every move, as always, was articulate as Steve helped Bucky shed his water heavy clothes as well as his own. He knew Bucky was probably gonna crash hardcore once he got him to bed. These flashbacks were exhausting for him, but Steve too. He always worried he’d make the wrong move.

            He kept a careful distance between their naked bodies as he soaped Bucky up like he’d done a couple times before. He deliberately drew out washing his hair, digging his fingers into his scalp that had his best friend making happy noises.

            Once the suds were rinsed away and gone, Bucky turned around in Steve’s arms and pressed his lips against Steve’s. Suffice it to say Steve jumped in surprise. Bucky stayed there, gently kissing, chaste, arm wrapped around Steve’s torso, one, two, three quick kisses and he was pressing his face to Steve’s damp neck.

            “Right here,” Steve spoke softly, kissing Bucky’s throat, “Not going anywhere.”

            They stayed under the never-ending stream of warm water until Steve was sure Bucky was falling asleep.

            “Darlin’, come on, let’s go to bed. Take a cat nap and then I want you to eat, how’s that sound?” Steve brought both palms to smooth over the planes of Bucky’s muscled back. He felt Bucky nod, but his hold hadn’t relinquished. Steve maneuvered them out of the tub and into the bedroom. Goosebumps riddling over both their flesh, even though Steve had had half a mind to grab towels and wrap them around Bucky’s back.

            As Steve dressed Bucky, looking up now and again, he noticed the wrinkled state of Bucky’s brow.

            “Baby doll, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I’m like this,” he hiccoughed, watching carefully as Steve dressed him.

            Steve stood up from his knees, bent at the waist and kissed him, carefully and sure, “Do not apologize. Up,” he tapped his one arm and then was slipping a sweatshirt over his torso, “You get cold at night, thought this would help.”

            Bucky was still trembling when Steve urged him to lie back, “Right here,” he said again, “Listen to my heart, I’m right here.”

            Bucky snuggled closer and Steve only frowned slightly when he pulled the blanket over his head.

            “I love ya so much Steve. You know that right?” Bucky whimpered.

            “I know,” he moved the blanket just enough to kiss his brow, and run his fingers through his hair, “And I love you too. Always.”

 

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “You do know the likelihood of him actually letting you touch him is weak at best,” Loki said, glamour properly vanished.

            “Yeah I get that, dude is spooked. Again, reminds me of you,” Tony said flicking here and there over his computer screen, “How long did it take for you to let me touch you properly, huh?”

            Loki sighed, loudly, and leaned against the desk Tony was currently working on, “A long time, but I needed to make sure you were safe. I was unpredictable. I needn’t add you to the list of people I’ve lost. Even in a fugue state I would hold him accountable.”

            “Oh sweetie, I mean that much to you?” Tony smirked, leaning away from his work and taking Loki’s hands.

            “You know you do. And I refuse to give you praise, you are ridiculous.” Loki huffed, rolling his eyes and pecking the inventor on the lips.”

            “Well, all joking aside, I think he’s cool. You don’t need to dress up as my assistant again, got it Loren?”

            “We agreed on Luke.” Loki growled.

            Tony winked and then laughed, “Lokes, babe, you’re too much fun to play with.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh please do review :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please review and give suggestions!


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